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One day, I met a boy who thought himself a man. I didn't look at him anymore than once on our first encounter. He became angered ... but at the same time intregued.

The next time I saw this boy who thought himself a man, he tried not to pay attention to me as I had ignored him. His efforts failed. Soon, he started to bluntly talk to me. I couldn't help but to become intregued with how he thought and acted. One day, he smiled at me and I couldn't look away. I smiled back.

Not long after, I found out that he loved someone that was obviously a bad choice for him. I told him that he had flaws in his plan to be with her forever, but I told him that I was happy that he found someone that he could love so very much.

While this went on, I would slip and tell my beloved about this boy who thought himself a man and thank goodness he thought nothing of it. I tried not to think of the boy that thought himself a man. When I was with my love, I had no problem with not thinking about him. But when I was alone ... he was all my mind filled itself with.

After some period of time, the boy who thought himself a man began to be flirtatious with me. I didn't think there was even the slightest possibility that he could actually like me, so I would make passes as well. The boy who thought himself a man would smile. I was his "Little One".

Soon, though, my dear friend lost his love and I helped him. I didn't like him depressed. I wanted to see him smile more than anything in the world. When he finally smiled a real smile, it was when he held me on day. The boy who thought himself a man and I became even closer.

I asked him one day if he wanted to be with me. At first, he was hesitant because of his bleeding heart, but not long ago he told me how he felt.

The boy who thought himself a man told me one day that he was posessive of me in a way he didn't know. He didn't want me to go off with someone. He didn't want to let me go the whole time me and him were together. I would smile and snicker at him.

However, on a night that was darker than black, the boy who thought himself a man held me close and our lips embraced in an unreal calm. I felt his arm wrap around me. I wanted to dive into him, but my consious told me that doing so would not be beifical. He looked me in the eyes as we kissed, and I in his. They looked at me gently.

Him and I soon started to act as though we were a couple. One day I fell asleep on the boy. He later told me that when I was asleep, he saw an angel resting on his chest. He wanted to kiss me, yet he was afraid that doing so would break my calm. Instead, he held me close and kissed me gently on my head.

I have strong feelings to the boy who thinks himself a man. Without meaning to, I have become addicted to his touch, his voice, his smile, his smell, and the way he feels against me.

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